Moments in Life
by CatherineWinner
Summary: Sara returned the night of the break out only to be injured. Now Michael endures prison without her, but theres something he doesn't know. Chap 9 is up!
1. mistakes

They were moments away from being free. There were only three of them left to cross the wire then they could start their run. Michael watched C-note reach the halfway point on the wire.

"Get ready, Sucre, your next." He told his cellie.

"Don't forget about me, pretty," the third person drawled.

Michael turned annoyed, "You're before me, T-bag."

"You better believe it," the man came closer to them.

Sucre looked sideways at Michael, "How much time we do we have-"

"I think it was just a cabinet falling or something-" Michael heard Sara's voice fill the infirmary.

"No, ma'am. It was louder then that." A guard said.

The three men froze; they could hear the footsteps coming toward them.

"Officer, you realize I do want to get-"

"What the hell is this?" The guard asked, spotting the fire hose.

"I have no idea-" She muttered.

Michael stared at the doorway stunned his plans were falling apart. Sucre rushed to the other wall and pressed himself behind the door. T-bag ran to stand beside the opening of the door. "Get ready, pretty. We're still breaking out." T-bag threatens pulling a shank out of his boot.

"Don't-" Michael gasped taking a step toward the rapist. All he could hear was Sara's heels clicking partnered by the step of the guards work boot.

He glance out the window, C-note was almost over. He suddenly heard Sara's heels stop then her voice start.

"Look, Officer Williams, Your new here and you want to make a good impression. I get that. But I'm the governor's daughter and I want to go home. There's obviously going to be a big mess so let's wait until tomorrow."

"We have to check this out, Dr. Tancredi. I know I heard a loud crashing…" the heavy boots started again, this time closer. Much closer.

Michael stood in the center of the room, mentally preparing himself for two things. Seeing Sara. And witness another guard's death. There was no way they couldn't kill him.

"Officer Williams?" a starchy voice said over the radio on the guards shoulder.

"Yes sir?" The guard stopped.

"Your needed down here-where the hell are you?" a guard's angry voice yelled.

"Um…I'm in the infirmary with Dr. Tancredi-"

"I don't give a shit. Get your ass down here!" the voice signed off.

"I'll clean up here, Officer Williams." Sara's relieved voice said quickly. "You'd better get out of here before you get into any trouble."

Michael released a breath this could still work. Thank you god-and Sara.

"Alright-" The guard said heavily. "But you'll let me know what happened?"

"Of course," Sara responded sweetly.

Michael stood frozen in place as they listened to heavy steps retreat.

They heard the click of the elevator doors, Michael sighed. He started to turn back to the window when he realized neither T-bag nor Sucre moved from their defensive positions. Fear struck him. If Sara walked through that door-they would get her. They couldn't know she was the reason they had made it this far. He started toward T-bag, reaching a hand out.

"Don't-" he said aloud the same moment Sara's heals started again.

She appeared in the doorway. Michael stopped as his eyes fell on her. She stared at the wrecked room then at him. Betrayal flashed through her eyes. Then fear as she turned and saw T-bag staring at her.

"Sara-" he panicked, he could see T-bag moving on her.

T-bag moved from his hiding place and pulled Sara against him. He pressed his knife into her throat. "Well well, look what the bull drug in. The pretty Dr,"

Sara gagged on a scream, her eyes locked on Michael.

"Sara!" Michael lunged for her, but fell back when the other man tightened the knife to her throat.

Sucre came around from the door, only scaring Sara more.

Michael closed the distant. "Let her go," he whispered in a deadly voice.

"Not in this life, pretty. Do you know how long it's been since I've held a woman this fine-" T-bag smelled her hair.

"Let her go," Michael hissed angrily. "She isn't part of this."

"On the contrary, pretty she's part of the plan isn't she?" T-bag smiled down at her then at Michael. "You used this pretty little bitch and I say we continue to do so."

"MICHAEL!!!" Michael turned as he heard his brother yell.

"Sucre, tell him-" Michael looked desperately at his friend.

"I'm sorry man." Sucre edged himself to the window, "But I gotta get to my girl."

Michael spared a panic glance away from Sara, "Sucre, I need you now."

"I'm sorry Papi." Sucre made his way to the wire.

Michael turned back, "T-bag we don't have time for this." He glared angrily, "Let her go!"

Sara whimpered as T-bag tightened his arm across her chest. Her eyes watered under the pain and she focused on Michael. "Let her go, T-bag-" Michael tried again.

"She comes with us, fish, and when they come hunting we use her to cover our pretty little asses." T-bag smiled down at her, running his tongue down the side of her face.

Michael watch in silent fury as Sara gagged and did her best to turn away.

"If we don't get out of here now there won't be a hunt." He said quietly, he could feel his body vibrating with anger. All he wanted to do was pull her from his grip and strangle T-bag with his own two hands.

"Then get out of our way so we can get this little beauty across." T-bag said forcing Sara to take a step with him.

Michael met them with a step of his own; he stopped less then a foot from them.

"Let her go or we both stay." He glared furiously.

T-bag studied him, "Then we have a problem, pretty. Because I'm not going back and neither is she." He jerked the knife tighter into her throat.

"T-bag," Michael said urgently. He was cut off by the sound of the elevator opening and two voices filling the rooms.

"You left her to walk around by herself? In this mess? You're a dumb shit aren't you?" a guard reprimanded.

"She said-I was called away-" The other guard stumbled.

Michael looked down at Sara, expecting to see panic and fear. But instead her eyes were telling him something different. They were telling him to run. She kept looking between him and the window, gesturing with her eyes. Michael shook his head, "No."

"Move it pretty," T-bag whispered urgently, "Or your doc will never speak again."

"Go-" Sara whispered, "Michael, GO!"

The heavy boats were getting closer, "No," Michael whispered staring at her.

"I'm not going back," T-bag threatened, "Move it!"

"Let her go," Michael lifted his eyes to T-bag's. They had seconds. Even less.

"What the fuck is going on here!" a guard screamed.

T-bag turned in surprise, still holding a knife to her throat. Michael used the opportunity to make a grab for Sara.

"No one moves or this bitch won't breath!" T-bag moved to stand between them.

Michael was thrown off when T-bag turned to see his attempts.

Michael was so focused on Sara he barely saw the guards behind them. So he didn't see when the guards pulled their weapons. But he did see T-bag plunged the knife into Sara throat.

Michael ran to her, completely forgetting the con holding her and the guards behind them. Her mouth dropped open and blood bubbled out. Michael grabbed her before he could think and pulled her from T-bag's arms. Suddenly the two guards were there…pulling T-bag down. Michael pressed his hands to Sara's throat. He laid her down, "Get someone!" he shouted not taking his eyes off her. "We need a medic!"

The guards looked at each other, "Get a medic god damn it!" Michael screamed,

"Mike-"Sara gasped, her eyes tried to focus on him but keep rolling.

"Sara, come on-" he was gasping, as tears were streaming down his face. "Come on you have to stay-" he couldn't finish. She was gagging on her own blood. "Stay with me Sara-" he bent his face lower, both of his hands on her wound. "Oh god-I love you-Sara-god don't leave me. "

"I'm-" she stared at him, desperately trying to form words. "I'm-"

Michael bent closer until his lips almost touched hers. "Don't speak-"

"Sorry." She whispered before her eyes rolled to the back of her head and Michael screamed.


	2. lost love

sorry this took so long getting out here. Also I promise the next chapter is going to be longer. Thx for the reviews I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and continue to let me know what you think! enjoy-

For the first time in his life the darkness was his friend. It hid him from the world-it even prevented him from seeing himself.

The darkness, however, didn't prevent him from hearing his own sobs, from feeling the tears running down his cheeks. From feeling the aching in his heart like someone had stabbed him.

Stabbed. Someone had stabbed him.

The moment that knife sank through her flesh he was dead. He closed his eyes and dropped his head onto his knees.

It was the worst moment of his life.

Three hours before he would have said the worst moment was when Lincoln had been sentenced to death. But no matter how innocent his brother was she was totally innocent. She didn't have a mark on her…she was a victim.

She was his victim. It was his fault she had been there, it was his fault T-bag had gotten a hold of her. If he had done more, moved quicker…instead he was half paralyzed with fear and the other half to confused on how to solve the problem.

So he had done nothing-just used words. And words had hurt Sara…maybe even killed her.

Michael bit down on his bottom lip. Tears sprung from his eyes.

He didn't even know if she was alive.

More guards had arrived seconds later-somewhere along the line he was pulled from her. Being replaced by the on hand nurse who prepared Sara for transport.

Michael's last glimpse of her was her being lifted on a gurney…guards cuffing him from behind. Cuffing his hands that were still covered in her blood.

They hadn't let him wash. Michael extended his hands so he could view them. He had done his best to clean them-wiping them on anything-the bits of toilet paper…the blanket, his pants.

Anything. But her blood was still here. He could feel in soaking in. He wanted to vomit.

He heard footsteps approach his door and slow he lifted his head eagerly.

"You there, Scofield." Bellick sneered bending down to look through the slot.

"I'm here boss," Michael choked out. He needed information on Sara-anything.

"The Pope wanted me to tell you what happened to your little junkie girlfriend." Bellick said dramatically.

Michael rushed to the door; he rested on his knees staring at Bellick. "What happened? Is she ok-?"

"She died. In surgery." Bellick threw, "Guess she lost all that blood when you left her on that floor."

"What-?" Michael gasped. Suddenly the breath was sucked out of his lungs and he fell on his butt. "What? She's-?"

"Yeah-your junkie girlfriend's dead. And it's your fault." Bellick hissed. "Don't try with the innocent act either, Scofield. I know what's going on and I'll get you."

Michael wasn't listening, he was hearing the words, but he couldn't understand them. He could only hear his blood pumping through his veins. His heart rate beat fast, his mouth opened gasping for air.

Michael leaned against the bed. She was gone. She was gone before he had a chance to be with her. She was gone before he had a chance to make up for everything he had done to her.

She was gone before they had a chance at Baja and 50 cent beers.

He sobbed. He gave in to the body wrenching screams…the sobs that left him hoarse. And when he was done he waited for more to come…because he knew it wasn't over. He loved her and killed her.

He loved her. Michael froze, he respected her, he admired her, he had feelings for her, yes. But Love? Michael gasped through another sob. Most defiantly love.

The slot allowed a stream of light to hit Michael's hands. He wrenched his eyes open and stared at the red soaked hands before him. For a sick, twisted moment he was comforted by her blood on his hands. By her blood soaking into him.

He would always have that part of her in him.


	3. pain

It was all he had.

They had deprived him of everything else. They refused him every luxury normal cons were allowed. However, Michael didn't care, He had the fork.

And that fork was going to be more then sufficient.

"Scofield? Dinner." Williams opened the slot.

Michael made his way to the door. "Thanks boss." He told the new CO. He hated when that man ended up on his block. Williams was the man that had been with her that night.

Michael clamped his eyes together tightly and accepted the tray.

"You ok in there?" The man asked gently.

"Don't ask me if I'm ok. It makes you look empathic and I could use that to my advantage." Michael responded as he looked down at the gruel on his plate.

"Right." The other man sighed. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize either." Michael snapped. "And don't stand there, your giving me light. I'm not allowed light."

Suddenly the slot slapped shut and Michael was left completely in darkness. He set the plate down on his bed but kept the fork in his hand. They had given him a little plastic knife that wouldn't cut through butter that was why he choose the fork.

He broke the ends off on an angle and sat against the wall opposite his bed. He lifted the fork in front of his face and stared.

He hated that man. Williams.

It was his fault, Michael allowed himself to think sometimes. Sara wanted to leave; she knew what was going on. She hadn't wanted to be there. But he was new and wanted to make a good impression so he had insisted.

Michael bit his lip, drawing blood from the already sensitive area. It wasn't the guard's fault. It wasn't Sara's fault. It wasn't even T-bag's…it was his.

Michael lifted his left arm in the darkness.

His brother was free; his nephew would soon be safe. Veronica would figure the conspirers out. Westmoreland would no doubt share his wealth with them. His actions had saved his brother. He had completed the plan.

But somewhere along the way he had failed.

Michael felt a warm tear slid down his cheek. He had fallen in love with her then killed her. All for his plan. Now he was all that was left of his plan.

Michael moved his arm closer to him, Sara was gone.

He pressed the broken fork into his forearm. He had killed her. He dug harder.

He didn't remember when his ploys had became real.

When his flirting had turned into honest wonder. When questioning her about her flowers did more then just want a means to chat.

He threw his head against the wall, the pain sheared through his arm. He dug deeper into his arm, blood seeped out of the same wound. Michael quickly pulled away. He glanced back at his arm, he only had minutes.

He choose another spot, griped the fork like a knife and buried it into his arm. He clamped his mouth closed, a scream wouldn't do him any good. Sara hadn't screamed, he thought. Sara had only moaned quietly.

While she died in his arms.

He twisted the fork, causing blood to pour faster from the wound. He didn't deserve this. Death was to good for him.

But he wasn't aiming for death.

He wanted pain. He needed pain. He didn't deserve to be in peace.

He had killed her. Michael leaned against the wall, he felt the pain spread throughout his body. He gasped for breath.

He remembered her look of betrayal when he told her of his plans. The look that questioned his feelings about her.

He remembered the kiss.

God, that kiss haunted him. They way she responded to him, the way her hands ran over his cheeks. They way she kissed his palm.

He cut another section of his arm, forget the kiss. He didn't deserve to remember it.

Remember that he had betrayal her.

She would never even know he hadn't intended to. She would never know that he had already started forming plans that would allow them to meet up in Panama.

She would never know.

Michael pulled the broken fork out of his arm and threw it across the room. He waited until he heard a clash before dropping his eyes to his wound.

His forearm was covered in blood, the area become numb. Michael satisfied with the self inflicted injury finally allowed sleep to consume him.

Before he could even open his eyes he saw light. For a split second it scared him. He tore open his eyes and came face to face with Katie.

"You're awake." She muttered standing over the table, finishing wrapping his wound.

Michael lifted his head to look around. He was in the infirmary. But thankfully he wasn't in her exam room. Someone had blessed him by not forcing him into that room that held so many memories of her. Michael stopped. Of course they wouldn't let him in that room.

It probably wasn't even fixed yet.

"Yeah." Michael dropped back on the table.

"You got Williams in trouble you know that." Katie said as she cut the bandage and stepped away.

"I'm sorry," He muttered. And He was. The guard was a good man; no matter his part in all of it he was just doing his job.

"Seems your sorry a lot. I wonder if you really are." Katie crossed her arms over her chest. She hated him for a reason that had nothing to do with the guard.

Michael winced as he remembered how fond this woman was of Sara.

Of how the two were friends, He remembered watching them walk out of the building; Sara was smiling, laughing, at something Katie had been saying.

Michael closed his eyes.

But then she had seen him and lost her smile. He took her smile and her life. He forced his eyes open to fight back tears, not now. Not here.

Michael stared at the woman, "I never wanted Sara to be a part of it."

"Then maybe you shouldn't have used her like that. You know? She honestly wanted to help you and it was all a lie. You used her." The older woman muttered.

"I hate what I did to her." Michael said firmly, glaring at her steadily. "And no matter what happens I will always regret my involving her above everything else."

"She may have bought that Scofield, but I don't. And no tricks will work with me." Katie peeled off her latex gloves, and started toward the door.

Her hand reached for the door handle when she heard his voice fill the room.

"It wasn't a trick. Not with her." He whispered emotionally.

Katie turned in surprise, rarely hearing such emotion in a prisoner. "I'd like to believe, that Scofield, for her sake. But I don't." she said gently.

Michael looked at her, "Nothing I ever say or do will make up for what I did to her, but you can believe that my feelings for her were genuine."

The woman studied him for a full minute before finally leaving the room.

Michael dropped back onto the bed and released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. His brother was free, he reminded himself.

His brother was free and on the way to proving his innocents. All that he had ever planned on having was coming to pass.

So why couldn't he bring himself to feel a little relief? A little peace after all he'd done.

The image of Sara laying bleeding in arms flash through his mind.

Michael sucked in a long breath of air, the room smelt of bandages.

They reminded him of her…he had never realized how many things reminded him of her.

The guard he had passed on the way here had been reading a magazine with a red cover, he was sure his knees buckled.

Michael clamped his eyes shut, if this was what the rest of his life was going to be like, he would have been better off dying with her.

"Get up Scofield," a guard muttered from the doorway.

A few weeks back he would have opened his mouth to ask where. Now he stood and walked over to the guard, not caring.

The guard snapped the handcuffs around his wrist, "Since you're afraid of the dark we're sending you somewhere with lots of light." The guard leaned forward, "You're going back to gen-pop."

Michael flinched in shock, he hadn't expected them to move him back so quickly. Maybe they were hoping that the other cons would beat him to death the way the guards were pining to.

Michael grinned sickly as he surveyed the building he had spent the last few months of his life in.

"You be grateful the Pope didn't stick you with someone Bellick suggested." The guard said in his ear, "Mac, here, has been here longer then you've been alive…and we've got a good thing going with him…he watchs all the trouble makers." The guard shoved him into the cell. "You watch him, Mac, so much as coughs without your permission you let me know."

"Sure thing boss," The man said studying Michael from the lower bunk.

Michael took another step into the cell as guard yelled the command and the door slammed shut.

"I'm not interested in anything funny, fish, you shut up and play nice and we'll be good."

The man said lifting a magazine again.

"That's fine." Michael said slowly, walking up to the bed and lifting himself onto the top bunk.

Michael stared up at the ceiling, he thought back to the night right after he had his visit with Nika. Sara had been angry with him, and if her jealousy hadn't been so apparent, he would have been depressed by that.

But it had and that had thrilled him to no end. He had spent the entire night waking thinking about her…thinking that after everything was finished, the conspiracy, the lies, the betrayal he could find a place in her world for himself.

He had been a fool enough to think, to hope, that after everything she could forgive him and possibly return his love.

Michael rested his arm over his face, his felt tears prick his eyes.

He would never have the chance to show her how much he loved her, he would never have the chance to see if she loved him the same.

"He's coming after you, you know." Mac's voice said suddenly.

Michael removed his hand. "What?"

"T-bag…he's been telling everyone that he's gonna get you." Mac replied, "And he's not gonna stop until he's either fucked you blind or killed you. God only knows which is worse. Either way he's coming after you."

Michael froze with hate, T-bag.

His mind flashed back to the night where that chance to be with her was stolen.

T-bag holding Sara tight against him with a knife pressed into her throat.

T-bag stabbing Sara….T-bag stealing Michael's love.

Michael curled his fist, in an instant knowing what he needed to do.

"Good," Michael hissed, "Because I'm going after him too."

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	4. revenge

It had been a simple matter; it had been a simple matter of so and so said such about so and so.

Fox River was a rumor mill-anything anyone said was repeated a hundred times before lunch.

So Michael used that to his advantage.

He dropped the right words into all the wrong people's ears and stepped back. It was during lunch when he watched the gangs glaring menacingly at each other; he knew it was only a matter of time before they did more then glare.

He knew by that night there would be death-and for the first time in his life Michael was glad. He fully intended to be in that fight…going after the man that had killed him weeks earlier.

And he knew that T-bag was aware of his intentions. T-bag spent time breaking in his latest toy, then turned his attention back to Michael.

Michael had to endure hours of T-bag's singing. The man had designed a song describing what he wanted to do to Michael. The first night Michael cringed and pulled his pillow over his head.

The second night he just closed his eyes and forced himself to sleep, knowing full well he would never let T-bag near him.

It wasn't until tier time did Michael finally hear the storm begin. Mac was sitting on his bunk doing his best to avoid the whole situation. Michael jumped off the bed and walked to the door.

"You going out there?" the older man asked suddenly.

"Yeah," Michael didn't turn, he was scanning the crowd for T-bag.

"Not a good idea." Mac replied.

"It's the best I've ever had." Michael muttered before slipping into the stream of men in the walkway.

Michael had spent his entire life avoiding violence; violence was the precise reason he was here. His brother had been caught up in a dark world for his sake and Michael refused to allow him to pay for it.

Causing other's pain went against everything in

Michael, not only his condition but also his moral beliefs. Yet as he weaved his way through the crowds Michael wanted nothing more then the satisfaction that violence, that hurting another person allowed.

Michael spotted T-bag. The other man had his eyes locked on Michael and was walking hurriedly toward him.

"I was wondering when you were going to come to me, Pretty." T-bag stopped a few paces from Michael.

Michael took an extra step and froze. He fingered the knife he had in his pocket angrily.

"You come for a little revenge? Cause I can think of something more fun." The other man drawled.

"Why did you do it?" Michael whispered harshly.

"Do what? Kill the lovely Doc?" T-bag questioned with a smirk.

"Yes," Michael slid his thumb over the rough edge. He could feel his blood pressure rising, the desire was hard to tame….

"Does it matter? That isn't what you're here about." T-bag took another step closer, angling the lower part of his body closer to Michael.

Michael was vaguely aware of chaos's breaking lose around them. Screams erupted, signaling the beginning of a new war.

Michael barely cared, his target was right in front of him and everyone knew that.

"No, that's exactly why I'm here. You killed her, you sick bastered," Michael spat moving closer.

T-bag ran his tongue over his lips, "Ahh---my pretty has a crush."

Michael glared angrily as T-bag continued, "Wasn't she something…I always felt we had a connection…the pretty doc and I. Whenever I went in for a check up she always spent a little extra time on my lower half-if you know what I mean."

"Shut up," Michael hissed. "She wouldn't go near you."

T-bag grinned, realize what games he could play. "How will you ever know, pretty?" he took another step, "But if you're real nice to me I'll make you scream just the same way I made her…all those visits I made to the pretty dr. were quite the experience."

Michael could feel his control loosen, his mind flat lined and he acted. In a swift motion, one that was completely unexpected by the other man, Michael used his left hand to jerk T-bag to him. While the other hand pulled the knife free of his coat and buried it into his stomach. Michael gritted his teeth as he pulled T-bag closer, digging his knife further into T-bag's gut.

"Rot in hell-"Michael whispered furiously. Pulling the knife out of T-bag's body he let the man slid to the floor.

He could hear the guards calling warnings; telling anyone who didn't want the beating of his life to go back to his cell. Michael wiped the handle of the shank on his shirt then tossed the knife as far as he could.

Then made his way through the massive crowd back to his cell.

It was hours later when the bulls finally made it to his cell for questioning. Bellick stood feet behind Pope as they stopped in front of his cellie.

"Michael, a word?" Pope looked up at Michael on the top bunk.

Michael jumped off the bed and stepped toward the door.

"What's going on, boss?" Michael glanced between the two men.

"Don't play innocent, Scofield. We know it was you." Bellick snapped.

"Captain-" Pope lifted a hand to silence the man behind him.

"Theodore was killed during the fight." The older man studied Michael. "A few men have said you were seen with him. Michael you need to be honest with me right now or

there's nothing I can do for you." He paused, wanting the seriousness of the situation to

sink in. "Where were you during the fight?"

Michael studied the old man's eyes. He was a good man. Michael knew he had a few dark secrets but who didn't have a few of those? He was a genuine man who wanted to help these men. Who actually believed he could.

_Be the change you want to see in the world_. Michael reminded himself. He realized why

Pope had hired Sara-her tainted past and all. Because they were exactly alike-they wanted to believe in the good in people.

"Michael?" Pope repeated…his voice firm but his eyes begging him for something Michael couldn't give him.

His innocence's.

"He was with me, boss." Mac said suddenly, he stood from his bed and took a few feet toward them. "We closed the door as best we could and stayed put."

Bellick glared at the other prisoner. "Are you sure, Mac? No one would blame you if he got away from you for even a moment."

"It didn't happen, boss, he was here with me the entire time." Mac insisted glancing at Pope.

"Is that true, Michael?" Pope asked his eyes still focused on the younger man.

Michael gave a weak nod. "I was here."

"Very good." Pope said unable to hide the sigh of relief.

Michael flinched as the older man gave him a lingering look then started toward the next cell. Yet another factor to compound his guilt. Great.

Bellick leaned forward, "Your gonna pay for this, Mac. Just you wait."

Mac stared aimlessly back at him "Whatever you say boss."

"I'm not resting until you're in for the rest of your life, Scofield." Bellick sneered. "And you Mac, you'll be getting a new cellie-you better watch yourself."

They glared wordlessly back until the CO followed the warden down the hall.

Michael waited for a few moments until he was sure they were out of earshot.

"Why did you do that?" Michael turned surprised.

Mac shrugged before slowly getting back on the bed. "T-bag deserved it."

That night, hours after lights out Michael got his real answer.

"Did you love her?" His cellie's tired voice whispered.

Michael flinched; He had been staring at the ceiling for the last three hours trying to find peace in the crime he had committed, founding none he had thrown himself back into his fantasy of her.

"I-" Michael stumbled. He did. Since the moment he held her dying body in his arms he knew he did. But saying it out loud, wasn't something he wanted to do.

"If ya didn't I'm gonna have to have another chat with Bellick." Mac muttered easily.

"Why?" Michael studied the mold on his ceiling-mold-_I hope you wore a mask-_his heart

clenched. "What does it matter if I loved her or not? She's gone."

"I was married once," The old man whispered, Michael could tell by his tone he was no longer speaking to him. "We got married right out of high school. She was best thing that ever happened to a scumbag like me."

"What happened?" Michael asked.

"She died-car accident." Mac said, his voice hallow. "Life wasn't the same with out her. The sun still rose the next morning, I still breathed the same air-"

"But everything has changed. It's darker more painful. It's painfully numb." Michael whispered in agreement.

Silence filled the cell, "So you did love her."

"I did. I just never told her. I used her." Michael could feel his tears swelling in his eyes.

"She died thinking I didn't love her."

Mac said nothing as Michael gave into his tears.

"Up Scofield-you have a visitor." The guard demanded.

"I already said I wasn't going to talk to any reporters." Michael threw back. Reporters had been bombarding him since the escape had been made public. He was sick of it.

"Get your ass up, Scofield. It's your brother."

Michael was off the bed in an instant. "What?"

"Oh didn't you hear?" The guard sneered, knowing full well that he hadn't heard anything. "Your brother's hot little lawyer got him off."

Michael stared in shock at the guard barely comprehending what was happening. The guard pulled him out of the cell, clamped handcuffs around his wrists and shoved him out

of the cell block.

"What happened? Did Veronica-what did she find to prove—" Michael stumbled over his words, his thoughts coming out in fragments.

"Shut up and move, con. Your brother may be a free man but you've still got a few years left so don't push your luck." The guard finished with a jab in his back.

Michael resigned himself to silence for the rest of the walk.

He stepped into the cages that lead to the visiting room. Hardly noticing when the guard undid his cuffs. He quickly scanned the room for his brother.

Michael smiled for the first time in weeks when he spotted his brother sitting by a window, his hands holding Veronica.

For a split second Michael felt relief…his brother was free. His brother was alive. It had been worth it.

Michael dropped his head to the floor; he had achieved his goal but lost his soul.

Lincoln had spotted him and stood in a greeting, waiting for the younger brother to make his way toward him.

Michael forced a grin and tried desperately not to think of Sara.


	5. alive

There are moments in life when everything changes. When one moment your biggest concern is getting that promotion, or making a good impression on the woman from the train station. When all you can think about is the simple things, the little things. Then your world is flipped over and suddenly you're fighting for your life.

A little over five months ago Michael biggest concern was keeping his past from his future. Then suddenly it had all been tossed away for his past.

Michael forced a smile on his face; he wouldn't allow his brother to know how deeply he was wounded. To know just how much freeing him had cost him. So he smiled, because no matter what Michael Scofield put others first.

"Hey man," His older brother said, pulling him into a bear hug.

Michael patted his brother's back gently and smiled over his shoulder at the woman.

"How are you both?" He asked pulling away.

Lincoln smiled then wrapped an arm around Veronica's shoulders. "We're free and soon so will you."

Michael cringed but bit his lip; it was too early to correct him.

"How are you?" Veronica asked gesturing for them to sit at the provided tables.

Michael sat across from the couple, "I'm good. How's LJ?"

"He's a tough kid," Lincoln smiled proudly, "He's been through hell but he's using it to impress the girls."

Michael smiled, "Good."

"So are you going to ask how we got exonerated?" Lincoln teased, sharing a smile with Veronica.

"Yeah, what'd you guys do?" Michael allowed himself a light tone.

"Terrance Steadman is alive!" Veronica leaned forward, "I found him in Montana. Once I convince him of the importance of the situation he suddenly agreeded to come back with me."

"What?" Michael gasped, looking between the two, "Are you serious?"

"He's alive. The son of a bitch is alive and squawking." Linc muttered, "V met up with us after the escape and I convinced him to go to a TV station. He sang like a bird for the 6o'clock news."

Michael leaned back in shock. "Wow."

"Wow's right." Veronica smiled, "They suddenly decided to give him a full pardon with a few million as an apology."

"What?" Michael looked at his brother, "A few million."

"Three to be exact." Lincoln grinned proudly, "Gonna send the kid to a good school. Gonna get you the hell out of here then we're gonna go to Panama and live like kings."

Veronica shook her head with a smile then turned to Michael. "I've already started the paperwork to get you out of here-"

"Don't bother." Michael cut her off. A sober blank expression took over his face.

"What do you mean don't bother?" Lincoln snapped.

"I mean just go to Panama without me. Or don't go. Whatever you guys want. Lincoln, you're free…you're a millionaire-"

"All because of you Michael. I'm not going to let you rot in this shit hole for the rest of your life." Lincoln growled, leaning angrily toward his brother.

"He's right, Michael. We can get you out of this place…I've already started the-"

"Don't!" Michael snapped, allowing a bit of anger in. He knew he was going to have to be firm even rude for them to back off.

"Why are you being a jackass?" Lincoln smacked his fist on the table. "You don't owe this bastards anything. You don't need to be here."

"You don't understand." Michael looked out the windows; he needed to focus on anything else.

"Michael-" Veronica started gently. "What don't we understand?"

Michael grinned lightly; this was why he liked the woman so much. Where his brother was the jump the gun type, Veronica was calm and thought things out.

"I've committed a crime, I have to pay." Michael said rationally. "It's not a big deal."

"Not a big deal?" Lincoln gasped. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Michael sighed, "A lot of people have been-"he felt his throat constrict he tried again. "I've hurt a lot of people because of what I did. I need to pay for my crimes."

"Michael that's a load of shit. You saved my life!" Lincoln said.

"But there were others-" Michael moved his gaze to the table. Her image flashed through his mind, her soft lips pressing against his palm-her blood covering her mouth. He clamped his eyes closed. "Many people, too many, people were hurt by my actions-"

"They weren't your fault, Mikey." His brother whispered gently, "The guard wasn't your fault. You had no idea what T-bag was going to do. And the others—Michael they weren't either."

Veronica reached across the table and placed a light hand on his. "Michael I can't promise that I can get you out tomorrow. In fact it may take a few months. But I can do it. Sara has agreed to testify-"

"Wait-What?" Michael chocked out. "What?" he removed his hand from hers.

"Sara-" Veronica stared at him, surprised by his sudden mood change.

"Sara?" Michael gasped; flashes of her filled his mind, _**Dr. Tancredi will do**_ the way her face brightened at his joke. God, he felt the air being sucked out of his lungs.

"Dr. Sara Tancredi." Veronica explained as if he didn't know who she was.

"The Doc-" Lincoln clarified, a confused expression on his face. He knew Michael knew her. After all she had been part of the plan.

Michael grabbed the table as if the world was spinning. And his was. Sara-_Sara…._

Veronica wouldn't have said-

"Michael are you ok?" Veronica asked slowly.

"Mike-what's wrong." Lincoln questioned worriedly.

"Sara-?" He couldn't manage more then her name. _**Michael this 'charm act'**__-_

"What's wrong?" Lincoln repeated. "What about her?"

"She's…she's…Sara's.." he couldn't form the words. She was dead. She died in his arms. T-bag shoved a knife through her throat. Yes it was possible to live from such wounds…but she had died in his arms, with her blood covering him. She had expelled her last breath while in his arms. He couldn't believe-he couldn't hope-it wasn't possible.

"Sara's what dude?" his older brother finally snapped.

"-Alive?" Michael whispered, his eyes beaming with tears.

"Wait-" Veronica lifted a stunned hand. "No one told you?"

Michael's sharp intake of breath answered her question. The disbelief in his face broke her heart. Veronica replaced her hand and gave a comforting squeeze.

"Michael, Sara's ok. In fact she was discharged a few days ago and we went to pick her up."

Michael leaned against the table, and dropped his face. His couldn't believe this. This had to be a dream. A nightmare, because nothing this horrible could happen for real.

"Michael, listen to us." Lincoln's voice dragged him out of his thoughts. "Sara's fine."

Michael finally allowed a dry sob to escape, he clamped his hand over his mouth and rocked back to the table. Unable to even hold his head up. _Until then I can't-Was it all an act?_

"I'm so sorry, Michael." Lincoln's voice barely penetrated his sobs. "We thought you knew. We thought they had told you."

Michael allowed himself another sob, then shook his head. "Bellick-"Michael chocked,

"Bellick told me-he told me-she-" Michael shook his head, trying for any form of control.

"he told me she died." He whispered.

"That son of a bitch," Lincoln swore, "God Michael I'm so sorry. We couldn't get here any sooner—the press was going crazy-" Lincoln stumble.

"It's fine," Michael muttered, his mind still trying to process the idea that she was alive. That she was well…that someday he could earn her forgiveness. Michael dropped his head into his hands, "my god," he whispered. He hadn't even allowed the thought to enter his mind that she had lived. That the wound hadn't been fatal. Hope had always been what he had, but this was too big for hope. Michael rubbed his face roughly, apparently not.

"How-how-" Goddamn it he was stuttering, he sprayed his fingers on the table. Begging his body for control. "Is she good?"

Lincoln gave a empathic smile, "She's fine, Michael. Still healing from the wound but

the doctors fixed her up real nice."

"She's been asking a lot about you," Veronica said gently, a knowing smile on her face.

Michael stared at the woman he considered family.

"Her fathers has broken all contact with her and the press have been all over her so we took her in for a while." Lincoln grinned.

"You what?" Michael gasped. "What? Repeat that." He couldn't have said what he thought he said. Sara-Dr. Tancredi was living with his family. Asking about him…this was to good. **Lord, if this is a dream you're a sick bastard.**

"Sara-is-living-with-us---"Lincoln teased.

Michael stared at his brother. This was impossible. This was-Michael dropped his head back into his hands and tried to regulate his breathing.

"She's really amazing, Mike. LJ's half in love with her and I'm thinking of running away with her-" He was cut off by a loud slap then an "OUCH! That hurt-I was just teasing."

Michael sighed, "She's really ok…"

"She's fine, Michael." Veronica whispered comfortingly. "She's is pretty amazing though-before she was even out of her neck brace she was helping me prepare your

testimony. She's determined to get you out of here."

Michael allowed himself a smile, he felt a spark of warmth. "Really?"

Veronica smiled at his expression. "She gets up before me in the mornings and starts the coffee so we can get right into the paper work. She's very devoted."

Michael froze, then sighed. What had he ever done to deserve them-to deserve her?

Suddenly Veronica's cell phone rang, she lifted. "I'm sorry-I have to take this."

Michael nodded, "Thank you Veronica-for everything." His voice still sounded hoarse.

"No problem, Michael. We're going to get you out of here." She stood and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hang in there-"

Michael fell silent as he was left with his brother. Lincoln watched his girlfriend walk from the visiting room.

"I'm gonna ask her to marry me," Lincoln muttered as Veronica disappeared. "Found mom's ring and everything."

Michael flinched, "Mom's ring?"

"Well I mean-" Lincoln dropped his eyes, "Unless you want it."

"What would I do with it?" Michael smirked. "Not really my style."

"No-"Lincoln smirked a this brother, "But it is Sara's."

Michael jerked back, "Give it to Vee-she'll like it."

Lincoln nodded, a smile still on his lips. "If you say so."

Silence filled their area for a moment until Linc whispered. "Mike-I heard about T-bag."

Michael flinched again, his mind going a mile a minute. He was a murderer. He had murdered a man to avenge someone who wasn't dead. Michael had promised himself that no matter what he would never regret his decision. But that's when he thought Sara was dead-that T-bag had killed any hope he had for the future.

"Yeah," Michael muttered his face stone as he stared out the window past his brother.

"Do you know anything about it?" Lincoln muttered.

Michael glanced back at his brother, shocking his brother with the answer he would never say. "What do you want me to say? It happened during a fight."

"Mike-" Lincoln leaned closer, "Mike-did you?"

"I was in my cell the whole time," Michael answered glaring at his brother.

"Fuck man," Linc gasped leaning back. "Fuck."

Michael crossed his arms over his chest. "Tell me about Sara." He begged lightly, wanting anything to change topics and desperately wanting that particular information.

Lincoln looked angrily at his brother, "She's fine. She'll want to come and see you in the next few days-"

"No-" he gasped, "Don't let her!"

"What? Why not?" Lincoln shook his head. "Dude-she's gonna want to see you-she's crazy about you. Not that she admits-"

"I don't want her here. It's so dangerous." Michael cut him off.

"You do realize she worked here for longer then I've been here, right." Linc lifted an eyebrow.

"I'm serious-Linc. Don't let her come here. It's to dangerous." Michael snapped firmly.

"Dude-she wants to come and see you. You're really gonna tell her no?"

"I don't want her involved in this, Linc. She's to important." Michael dropped his tone.

"She's to important to be risked like that."

"Fine," Lincoln sighed, "But don't expect this to work-that chick has a mind of her own."

Michael smiled; a shot of envy pierced him. His brother was getting to know

Sara…getting to know her quarks and pet peeves. He had never been even slightly envious of Lincoln, but in that moment it bordered on jealously.

"Visiting hours are over! All Cons make your way back to the cage." A loud demanding voice yelled.

Lincoln stood with Michael. Michael allowed his brother another bear hug-this was a lot lighter for Michael then the last.

"Thanks, Lincoln." Michael whispered in his ear. "For telling me."

"I'm just sorry we didn't get to you sooner," Lincoln muttered back, still holding his little brother tight, "Before you did-"

"Just protect her for me, Linc…. make sure she's safe." Michael pulled away.

Lincoln looked down at him, "I will, man. But we are going to get you out of here."

Michael gave a weak smile, then stepped away. After three steps he turned back.

"You think I deserve that?"

Lincoln lifted an eyebrow in confusion. "To be with her, I mean. You think after everything I've done I don't deserve to be here?"

Lincoln knew that was the closest thing to an confession Michael would ever give about T-bag's death. "It was for love, man…a lot can be forgiven for that. Just so long as you want to be forgiven."

Michael smirked, "See you later, Linc.

"Take care little brother-see ya when we're free." Lincoln threw over his shoulder as he turned to leave.

As Michael made his way back to his cell he felt a wave of relief that not even hearing of the evidence concerning the conspiracy could be compared with. He walked down the dark ugly walls of the prison, feeling for the first time that maybe there was a light at the end of this tunnel.


	6. push away

Michael leaned against the yard fence. For the past two days his world had been complete bliss. He hadn't allowed his surroundings or the other cons to dampen his mood.

The moment he returned to his cell after seeing his brother he embraced his older cell mate.

"She's alive, Bellick lied to me, she's alive!" he whispered to Mac, finally allowing tears to fall from his eyes. He spent the rest of the night switching on and off between sobbing and laughing that this was real. That she was really alive-and well.

By morning his excitement had lessened and he began to think. She was alive and fighting for him.

Did that mean she forgave him? Did that mean they had a chance?

No-he wouldn't think that, that was too much to ask. No matter what he had still used her. He still used her affection, her desire to help people. She wouldn't forget that.

But she was fighting for him because he was innocent. Because she was a humanitarian and a good person, who honestly wanted to help him.

They had told him she was asking about him but Michael told himself that it was just natural curiosity. After everything she had been through any question she had deserved answers

Michael closed his eyes, standing in this exact spot he had witnessed her coming out. A smile and a laugh on her face, until she saw him…then she lost it. As she had almost lost her life. Michael clamped his eyes tighter, it had been hours after he realized just how much he loved her.

And hours before he would hold her bloody body in his arms.

"Scofield!" a guard waved angrily, "Get your ass over here!"

Michael looked toward the gate, then nodded, "Coming boss."

"Where are we going?" Michael asked stepping through the gate and lifting his arms to be cuffed.

"You got another visitor." The guard sneered. "Quite the popular con you aren't you? But don't worry, they'll stop once your sentenced to your 25!"

Michael clamped his mouth shut and allowed the guard to push him away from the yard.

Veronica had visited him yesterday, a stack of papers for him to sign and even more

papers for him to read. Michael had grinned brightly as he watched his childhood friend fall easily into the Lawyer role.

"My lawyer said she wouldn't be able to come today," Michael voiced remembering

Veronica's words as she was leaving. "Who is it?"

The guard jerked him toward the visiting rooms. "Your nephew."

Michael nodded and smiled slightly. He was excited to see LJ. It had been months since he had last seen his nephew. The last look on his face was of shock, disappointment, betrayal. He couldn't wait to see the young boy's face again.

"It was just him?" Michael dared, not looking back.

"No, now shut up and walk before I decide you got violent and toss you in ad seg." The guard jammed an elbow in his back.

Michael barely felt the hit, what if LJ hadn't come alone? His stomach started churning…. oh god. Lincoln had said she wanted to see him…that she would come in a few days.

Shit-he was sweating…Michael Scofield did NOT sweat because of nerves.

His hands suddenly became like water. She wouldn't come. He told himself weakly.

He had told his brother not to allow her.

She would listen, she would understand that it was for her best interest. Wouldn't she?

She was a sensible woman, she would listen to logic. Michael wiped his hands down his shirt.

She wouldn't come, he told himself. He gave himself a mental shake.

She wouldn't come. He repeated firmly. She wouldn't.

Michael barely waited until they were through the door to start scanning the room for his quests.

LJ was the easiest to spot, he was pacing before a table. His hands waving in different directions as he talked happily to his company. His company who remained a mystery to Michael as the room was filled with families.

He barely noticed as the guard uncuffed him and forced him through the gate door. His eyes were locked securely onto his nephew…but there were still people in his way.

_Let it be Veronica, Lincoln, hell Steadman coming to apologize! Anyone but her-she can't see me like this. She can't see me like this after-_ Suddenly a woman stood her hug her son, allowing Michael a clear view of-a redhead.

Michael stopped in his tracks.

He felt as if someone had just punched him. She was alive, she was healthy, she was real. She was right before him….She was smiling up at LJ, laughing at whatever story he was so intent on telling her, her hands were clamped lightly together on her lap.

She wore a gray turtle neck but Michael could still see the bandages under.

He reached out and grasped the edge of the closest table. Not caring that the occupants glared at him as if he had just lost his mind.

He knees had just turned to mush. God, she looked amazing, a long black skirt covered her legs.

Michael forced himself to breath, wondering for a split second when it became a chore.

He wanted to study her, analyze her every feature, gesture, expression….he wanted to know her.

But his nephew suddenly turned and spotted him.

"UNCLE MIKE!"

Sara looked up and turned, for a split second Michael saw her happiness. Her smile still covered her face yet the moment her eyes locked with his her smile faded.

It wasn't replaced with a frown as before but a look of stunned relief, of a happiness she hadn't expected. Of love, Michael dared to hope.

His nephew arms swung around his neck, "Uncle Mike!"

Michael embraced his nephew his eyes still lock on Sara. She stood, dropped her eyes to their feet and waited to be knowledge.

"It's so good to see you Uncle Mike, dad wanted to come today but he had to take Veronica to work…" LJ pulled away from his uncle to see that the older man wasn't pay any attention. He looked behind him at the focus of his uncle's affection.

"She wanted to come with. Got into a screaming match with dad about it. She said she was coming, dad said she wasn't. Dad threw a pillow so Veronica threw a water glass at him." LJ whispered turning back. "Dad was soppying wet before he finally gave in…. It was kinda funny to see them team up against him like that."

Michael finally tore his eyes off the woman, "How is she?"

"Come on Uncle Mike," LJ stepped away, "Ask her for yourself."

He had been a successful engineer; he had broken out of a prison with only his wits. He was what you would call a very intelligent man. But the simple request his nephew just placed before him seemed impossible.

LJ grabbed his arm and pulled him toward her.

"Michael," Sara greeted, finally lifting her eyes to him.

Michael allowed his nephew to pull him the remaining few steps toward her. From his place he could smell the body lotion she had used that morning. He blinked; his last image of her had been him clamping hands around her neck, trying desperately to hold back more blood. He felt a rush as she spoke his name, her voice sounded as uncomfortable as he felt.

"Sara," He stared at her. She was really alive. Really ok. If he wasn't standing in the middle of a prison visitation room dressed in prison issued clothing, he knew he would be crushing her to his chest. Burring his lips into her hair, holding her body so close to his he would feel her heart beat in her chest.

Sara stared at him, he could see a blush developing on her cheeks. She gave him a weak grin then allowed it to grow. Michael took another step closer with every intention of pulling her into an embrace. She looked so amazing right then, it took all of his restraint not too.

"Well not the tearful reunion I expected," LJ smirked, watching the two adults.

LJ dropped onto the table and glared up at them. "Come on, sit down."

Michael cast his nephew an annoyed glance but followed his instructions.

He barely felt himself move toward the table. Sara took a step back and seated herself at the opposite end. Michael resisted the urge to slide his hand under the table to hers. Baby steps…he told himself. Damn it-he shouldn't be taking any steps. She shouldn't be here.

"I hope Lincoln didn't cause to much of an out burst." He said politely, looking at Sara. His eyes roamed greedily over her ever feature. During his visits to the infirmary he thought he had been desperate…it didn't compare to what he was feeling now.

A smile formed on her lips, titling them up ever so slightly. Michael studied her lips, remembering how soft and welcoming they had been.

"Well he wasn't exactly thrilled with my decision." Sara shared a smiled with LJ. "But Veronica is wonderful with controlling him."

"Are they treating you alright?" Michael asked slowly.

"No, we're forcing her to clean dad's underwear drawer." LJ laughed, punching his uncle in the arm. "What do you think we're doing to her?"

"Their amazing, Michael. Don't worry." Sara replied quickly, "I've offered to move into a hotel but they refuse. Your brother and Veronica are really wonderful."

Michael smiled at her, "I'm sure they enjoy having you."

LJ sighed, as Michael and Sara stared at each other for a few seconds. "Hey Sara, tell Uncle Mike what you think of me." Without waiting for a reply LJ leaned forward, "She doesn't want to tell you that she's fallen madly in love with me."

Michael nodded, "Really LJ?" he fought against a smile.

"Michael, while I adore Veronica and Lincoln, your nephew is a pain in the butt." Sara glared playfully across the table.

LJ moved back in shock. "Hey don't push that one to hard, sweetheart. After the shower incident I was sure you-"

"Shower incident?" Michael repeated looking between the two. Oh dear god no.

"LJ decided I really didn't need privacy during my first shower since I got out of the hospital." Sara crossed her arms over her chest. "Walked right in."

"LJ!" Michael scolded; it annoyed him rather then embarrassed him. He should be the one walking into unexpected or even better yet…joining her. Michael forced himself to swallow the lump in his throat.

"It wasn't my fault! She left the curtain half open! Who the hell does that?" LJ accused.

Sara glared back, "Someone who's claustrophobic!"

Michael turned his head, his hands curled into fists on his lap. Damn. There it was again, that little annoying bit of him that was jealous of his teenage nephew. That little bit that had just grown even bigger. That he should have NEVER learned from his nephew but from his own experience. He could just see it now. Their house in a subdivision, white picket fence surrounding the back yard so the dog doesn't get out. There's a flower garden in the front of the yard but Sara only takes care of it when she's bored. He just came home from a meeting, he's already pulling off his tie as he walks through the door. He hears her loud music coming from the shower, he drops his jacket over the railing of the stairs. He pushes open the door-

"Uncle Mike?" LJ broke his thoughts.

Michael blinked, casting a quick glance at Sara he turned to LJ. "Yeah what?"

"We kind of lost you there for a moment." Sara said gently. "You ok?"

Michael nodded, "LJ could you take a walk?"

"Off a short pier?" Sara whispered. Michael turned and smiled at her, she could handle her own against two hundred pound cons, or a hundred and twelve pound teenagers.

"Fine, I see what's going on here," LJ stood, before sticking his tongue at Sara.

"I'll be waiting in the car. Don't take forever."

Michael patted his nephew's arm, "Take care of yourself, LJ."

"You too, Uncle Mike."

Michael watched LJ leave the room; out of the corner of his eye he studied Sara.

She returned her eyes to study her hands. He could see her nervousness, he wished he could calm her. But his hands were shaking worse then hers and his mind was still foggy from her close proximity.

"How are you?" He asked gently, he began tapping his middle finger on his kneecap. Anything to keep from reaching for her.

"Fine…good." She smiled weakly looking up, "I'm getting better."

"Good," Michael smiled, she was being honest, that was even better.

"How are the guards treating you?" She asked barely above a whisper.

Michael gave a nod, "Better then can be expected, I guess. They can't kill me and that's enough to drive them crazy."

"Don't push them, Michael. I've seen how far they will go." She leaned toward him. "Don't give them any excuse to hurt you."

"I don't." Michael agreed, fighting back a smile at her concern for him. "They told me you were dead. Bellick-" Michael dropped his eyes from her face. It was almost unbearable. "Bellick told me you were died, Sara."

Sara stared at him in surprise. "You didn't believe that? Did you?"

"I had no reason not too." Michael ran a hand over his head. "I held you-"

He turned his head to scan the room, the lump in his throat growing. "I held you right after T-bag…stabbed you…I saw all the blood." He trained his eyes back to her. "You very well could have died."

"But I didn't." Sara reassured quickly. "I didn't. And I'm ok." She reached out and placed an hand lightly on his arm. "Michael, I understand now. I saw the evidence you have against the government-against the vice President. I know why you needed to save Lincoln. This is huge."

Michael forced himself to ignore her hand on his arm-and the sensations it was causing him to have. "Sara-if you understand just how big this thing is what the hell are you doing here?"

Sara flinched. "Michael, this has nothing to do with me. It's bigger then me, it's bigger then Lincoln-"

"And that's why you shouldn't be involved!" Michael snapped. "Sara-you need to take a step back. This can only end badly for you."

"Michael-"

"I know you want to help Sara. But this is to dangerous. This goes to deep to allow you just too play around with this."

"Michael, I'm not playing with anything. I'm trying to save your life. If you stay in here any longer they will kill you." Her eyes beamed with tears.

Michael resisted the urge to cup her face in his hands, he needed to be strong about this.

"I can't save the world, Michael. But I can save you. I couldn't help you before because I didn't understand but now I do. Please let me help you now."

Michael felt her thumb circle his tense arm. He could feel how desperately she wanted him to understand, how much she wanted him to accept her help. But he couldn't rid himself of the image of her laying bloody in his arms. Her throat slashed, blood oozing from it onto his arms. He forced himself to pull away.

"So this is about your pity! You're here, your helping us because you pity me! Well Dr. Tancredi-I don't want your pity!"

"Michael-"Sara gasped stunned. "This has nothing to do with pity-"

"Save it for someone who cares." He stood, pulling himself out of her grasp and hating himself for it.

"I'm here because I wanted to believe what you said when I was stabbed. I'm here because I want to believe what you said was real…that you really meant it." She threw back angrily, standing and stepping away from the table.

Michael hid a flinch, so she remembered. He wasn't sure if that made him relieved or even more angry. "I can't-" he gasped.

"Michael-please." She stepped toward him. "Please."

"No." He moved from her. "Go home Sara. Get out of this place and never come back."

"I'm not going to leave this alone." She said, he could hear the tears in her voice.

"Do whatever you want Sara. Just don't come back here again-I don't want to see you." He turned and walked back to the guard. "I'm ready."

He forced himself not to look back at her, but that didn't stop him from hearing her sobs as he was forced from the room. And that didn't stop him from sobbing into his pillow the entire night. He had to do it, she was right.

This was bigger then anyone had ever expected. And she needed to be far from it.


	7. promises

Thanks to Mel for the beta and all the other help! PLEASE comment-I'm not getting alot of love from this site!

hope you enjoy

* * *

The next day, Michael's string of miserable days ended. The entire prison had been informed of Dr. Tancredi's health. Suddenly Brad Bellick wasn't on Michael's block anymore, and the guards treated him with a silent respect.

Michael was relieved as it meant that Pope had heard of Bellick's games and had put a stop to them. However, it also meant that the cons would replace the threatening position the guards had held.

He had seen the cons gathering, Mac warned him of the rumors…but Michael hadn't thought anything of it.

He was too caught up in his own world. Sara was alive!

Veronica arrived hours after Sara to explain her progress and the work left to be done.

Michael wasn't in the mood to deal with her. He dropped onto the seat and looked up at her.

"Have you seen Sara?"

"No," she looked up at him, placing her papers on the table. "Why?"

"She came here with LJ," He studied his hands.

"And," Veronica seated herself opposite him, a small but wry smile on her face.

"And I threw her out." He answered weakly.

"What? Michael why would you do that? That woman's crazy-" Veronica started.

"I can't do this, V, I can't do this to her." Michael ran a hand over his head. "It's best if she's left out of all this. Now let's get down to this."

"Michael, you can't push her away," Veronica said gently. Leaning across the table,

"Sara can help, Sara wants to help…"

Michael looked up at her, "I held her in my arms while she bled Veronica. I watched T-bag shove a shank into her throat. I was here, I thought she had died."

Veronica stared wordless at him, allowing him to continue. "Being near me almost got her killed by T-bag, think of what the people who set up Linc would do to her." Michael sighed heavily, "Maybe it's best if we just let this go,"

"What do you mean? Let this go?" Veronica gasped.

"Lincoln's free…they're going to want someone to take the blame…"

"Well it won't be you, Michael, we won't let it."

Michael dropped his yes to the table, "If it keeps you all safe, if it keeps Sara safe…I'd rather rot here for the rest of my life."

Michael followed the line of cons into the yard.

It nearly killed him to be that way to Sara. To feign anger when he really wanted to collapse in her arms.

Once he tried to convince her of his brother's innocence, of his innocence…now when she finally understood, he pushed her away.

Michael gripped the lining of his pockets, hating his life for perhaps the first time. It was torture— wanting her, needing her… but knowing that when, if, he embraced her, she'd pay the price.

Michael lifted his eyes and scanned the surrounding crowds, seeing the deathly glares from the other cons.

He forced himself to glare back, as three cons from T-bag's old gang made their way across the field towards him.

"Hear you're flying the coop, fish." The front man said, his eyes inspecting Michael's body in a way that made him want to shiver.

"Don't know anything about that." Michael answered quickly. This was all he needed.

"You trying to play hero now? Get out 'cause you saved the Sink's life?" another slurred, his voice as rough as the other's.

Michael took a step back, his eyes focused on the leader. "It's best for everyone if we don't do this."

"Ohhh..now he's telling us what's best for 'everyone'. Why Fish, aren't you just the hero of us all…" the one slurred.

He saw it coming, just didn't have time to register the hit and dodge it. But seconds later he felt the man's fist crush into his jaw, then he felt the other two men surrounding him.

He dropped to the ground, pulling his knees to his chest, trying desperately to protect his head. He was vaguely aware of one man's steel-toed boot hitting his spine, sending his back into a spasm.

He felt another boot slam against his head, seconds later he felt nothing.

"He's trying to get himself killed!"

It was her voice. Michael tried desperately to clear his mind; he didn't want this dream, anything but this dream.

He'd been having it since he found out she was alive. Sometimes twice a night. It was before the breakout, before he broke her heart, her trust in him, then almost got her killed. He was with her again in the infirmary, she had just poked him with the tiny needle, he could still feel her hand holding his. He'd study her, begging God to help him find a way out of hurting her. Then he'd see Lincoln sitting in the chair, his head shaven with water running down. He was faced with a choice: hurt Sara, lose Sara, or kill his brother.

"I don't know how much longer he can keep going like this, Katie, it's only a matter of time before the guards don't bother to stop them."

Michael flinched, that didn't make sense.

"I told Pope, but he doesn't seem to think Bellick will cross the line." Another woman's voice answered Sara's.

"He wants to believe the best and in the meantime Michael's paying the price." It was

Sara's voice again.

Michael forced his eyes open; the bright lights hurt his eyes.

"Michael?!" her voice said urgently.

Michael forced his eyes to open, he lifted his head toward the voices. "Sara?"

"Michael!" Her hands were pressing into his shoulder, all he could see was her concerned face beside him.

"Sara?" He repeated in confusion. She was standing beside the table, Katie a few feet behind them, trying her best to study the papers in her hands. "What-" he choked on the words. His throat felt like it had been crushed. Michael slid a hand up to his neck. It probably had.

"Michael, you need to rest," she forced him back on the table.

Michael looked at her, She was really here, wearing a dark turtleneck with a pair of jeans. No lab coat in sight, no ID tag attached to her chest. No professionalism anywhere.

"What-" he gasped but forced himself to continue. "are you…doing here?"

"You have five minutes Sara," Katie said moving toward the door.

"Thanks," Sara spared the woman a quick glance.

Michael looked up at Sara in confusion. "Sara-"

"Michael, don't try to talk. They worked you over pretty good." She moved around the room with the ease.

He watched her in confused shock as she brought bandages and disinfectants to the table beside him. "You-"dammit, they must have stepped on his throat or something. He felt as if his throat had been crushed.

Sara pulled a stool beside him, not paying any attention to his attempts to speak.

"Michael I don't know what you're expecting to happen, but I know for a fact that if something doesn't change, you won't survive the next few months."

Michael was sent back weeks before when she would speak to him but barely lifted her eyes from her task. "Sara-" he choked out.

"You nearly got killed today, Michael. Do you have any idea how much longer your body can handle this type of abuse? Because I do and it's not for much longer." She applied disinfectant to the bandage. She was trying to act as indifferent as she had before, but he could see through both acts. Her hands were shaking slightly, her eyes kept scanning his wounds, quickly dropping every time she reached his eyes.

"Sara-"he tried again, finding his voice stronger, "What are you doing here?"

Sara dropped the bandage and turned to him, meeting his eyes. "Katie called me. Told me that you might need to see a friendly face. And that T-bag's old group had beaten the hell out of you."

Michael lifted himself on his elbows, ignoring the shot of pain that ripped through his body. "Sara," he whispered.

"What were you thinking? You thought you could handle this? Michael this is the proof," she gestured toward his body, "you can't."

Michael watched her hand come in close vicinity to his body. Michael easily caught her hand between his and pulled it toward to him as he looked up at her.

"Sara, what are you doing here?" he whispered hoarsely.

Sara stared at her hand in his, "Katie snuck me in…"she whispered, he could see her body relax, all the tension finally allowing her shoulders to fall. She dropped her head to the ground but lifted her eyes to him. "I have to convince you…"

"Convince me?" he lifted an eyebrow.

"Let Veronica get you out of here." She whispered emotionally.

Michael drew circles on her hand, allowing his eyes to roam freely over her face.

"Sara….if they'll leave you alone…I have no choice."

"Michael, no one has come after us…" she looked up at him. "You don't have to do this…"

Michael swung his feet off the table and then pulled her by the arm toward him. He tugged her until she stood between his legs inches from him.

"If it means keeping you all safe, I have to."

"But it doesn't!" Sara muttered, "Michael whoever these people are they can be beaten, and they are being beaten. Sacrificing yourself up won't do any good. Listen to me, Veronica almost has enough evidence to get you out-"

"Sara I'm sorry," he whispered. Michael clamped his eyes closed. She was fighting for him even after he had hurt her…even after he had tried to push her away. She still stuck by him..still fought for him.

"Michael?" She lifted her free hand and placed his on his cheek. "Michael you have nothing to be sorry for…."

"I almost got you killed," he closed his eyes, allowing himself to lean into her hold. "You were hurt because of me…you almost died because I used you."

"Michael," she pulled her hand from his to place on the other side of his face. "Michael, look at me." She waited until he opened his eyes, "Michael, you used me and that hurts but I know it was to save your brother. I have to believe that you never wanted to use…that you did what you had to do to save your brother."

Michael leaned forward, gripping Sara's wrists in his, "I hated what I did you to. I hated using you….but I can't ask you to forgive me. No matter what I still I've ruined your life."

"Michael," Sara sighed, "You're impossible, you know that." She smirked.

Michael allowed himself a smile, "I've been told."

"Michael I'm not perfect. I've done so many things I've tried to forget…but right now…helping Lincoln, getting you out… it feels too right to be wrong." She smiled again, "That was corny…but it's true."

Michael nodded, closing his eyes, "Thank you."

They pulled away when they heard a light tapping on the window. Sara turned nodded then looked back at him.

"Promise me you'll allow Veronica to get you out of here."

Michael nodded again, "I promise."

"Good," Sara smiled as she gently pulled her hands from his face.

Michael caught her hands quickly, holding them tightly. "Promise me you'll be waiting for me when I get out."

Sara gave him a puzzled smile, "Are you asking me to wait for you?"

"I'm asking you for a chance." He whispered, feeling time pull away from them. "That's all."

"Does this chance include 50 cent beers and a hammock?" She smiled coyly.

For the first time in weeks, for the first time since she last made him grin like a school boy, Michael found himself smiling without care. "It does if you want it too."

"I want it too." Sara whispered.

Another tap against the glass, Sara gave Katie a brief nod, "I have to go."

"I know." He couldn't force himself to release his grip on her, "Sara-" he pulled her toward him leaned forward and crushed his lips to hers. He took advantage of her surprise and deepened the kiss.

He lifted his hands to her face, bringing her closer to him.

It reminded him of their first kiss, the same intense passion, the same surprise. Michael nearly gasped in surprise when he felt her hands wind around his neck. Michael pulled away from her, breathless.

"You never gave me a chance to do that before," Sara whispered.

Michael studied her flushed face, "I do love you."

Sara froze, her arms still wrapped around him.

"I didn't just say it. I do and I need you to know that." He whispered desperately, stroking her face, pushing away her hair.

Another tap, this one more insistent.

"I love you too," Sara whispered quickly.

Sara pressed her lips to his, another kiss ending just as quickly as the others. She pulled away and nearly ran out the door.

Michael watched as she fled the infirmary, turned a corner and disappeared completely from his view. He was left with only the quiet noise from the other rooms and her fading scent. Michael dropped back onto the table and closed his eyes. Allowing the feel of her to wash over him, curing all the hurt.


	8. Freedom

Thanks to Mel for the beta!

As I'd like to give a really big hug to 'Va-parky' for her wonderfully timed comment! I was in some want of a writer's block(just being lazy)and I received her lovely comment and was inspired to finish and send it off. So thanks for the motivation and I hope you enjoy this chapter!!!

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Since he had agreed to fight, Michael had been bombarded with visitors. Reporters, fans, enemies, people claiming to be long lost family.

He received none of them.

On this particular day, however, when the guard called to him during yard time telling him that he had a visitor, he would have met with him no matter who he was. The other cons in the yard seemed to be planning another attack, and Michael knew he wouldn't be so lucky after another round with them. He was only too happy to leave the dangerous yard.

He fell silent on the walk to the visitor's room. He knew better than to speak to the guards, as the news of his impending release aggravated them even more than the convicts.

As the guard pushed him past the entrance of the door, Michael stopped in his tracks.

"Wait-I thought I had a visitor?" Michael turned; a memory of Bellick taking him to Abruzzi filled his mind. He suppressed a shiver.

"You do," the guard growled. "But this visitor wants to deal with you in private."

Michael flinched; this ordeal had made him some enemies. The Company— he knew they would make it their personal mission to ruin his life. If he didn't get to them first.

The guard shoved him down the hall. Michael suppressed his fears. He had to stay in control. "I have a right to know who I'm seeing."

"You have no rights considering you're fucking his daughter."

Michael turned, "What?"

"Seems Governor Tancredi wants to talk to you, now MOVE-"

Michael scanned his mind for reasons why the governor would be arranging a meeting with him. He finally concluded that this might have something to do with Sara, which wasn't surprising. She was the only thing they had in common.

Unlike the Governor though, who had practically abandoned Sara, Michael had no intention of ever leaving her once he stepped outside these walls.

Seconds later the guard pulled a door open and shoved him into a small room. Michael's eyes adjusted to the change of light and found Sara's father standing beside a small window, his hands in his pockets and an expression of disgust on his face.

"You may leave," The governor turned, looking Michael up and down and not even bothering with the guard.

"You sure, sir?" The guard asked weakly.

"Mr. Scofield isn't going to hurt me… are you?" Frank gave him a dark look. "It won't take a moment."

"Alright," the guard agreed as he stepped away.

"Michael Scofield," the older man greeted resentfully.

"To what do I owe the honor of this visit?" He couldn't help but inject some bitterness in his voice. This man nearly killed his brother but also treated Sara like she was a second-class citizen, someone not worthy of his time.

"You're going to be released in a few days," the older man said angrily. "Seems your brother and your lawyer made a big enough publicity."

Michael said nothing, and instead allowed his mind to analyze this man. He didn't trust any news from this man…he could only be using it to get a rise out of him. Michael had no intention of giving this man even an inch.

"Your family wasn't the only one who made a scene. It seems my daughter has sided with you and used the media to ensure your freedom."

Again Michael simply studied the man. What he could say to a man he'd never met before? A man who had broken the woman Michael loved.

"I always knew this would happen," Tancredi glared at Michael, furious at the silent demurrer.

"What?" Michael finally met his challenge.

"I knew she was too weak to handle working in a prison. I knew all it would take was a handsome face or the promise of drugs-"

Michael cut him off, "Drugs?"

Frank grinned, "Oh what? You didn't know that the pretty prison doctor was a drug addict?"

Michael groaned inwardly as the pieces fell into place. Her mysterious absence from society, her shy, reserved self that wouldn't trust even herself.

"How long?" He muttered, bringing his eyes to the older man.

Frank studied the man before him, his brittle smile fell into a grim line, "Does it matter?"

"Yes."

"Since she was a teenager." The governor took a step away from the window. "But you knew that, just like you knew everything else."

"No," Michael glared angrily at the man, her father. "I had no idea." His voice sounded harsh even to himself.

"You don't have to pretend with me Scofield. She's not here, there's no press….you don't have to pretend to care about her." Frank took another step, his fist curling on his sides.

It was Michael's turn to use a bitter smile, "I don't use her for publicity, Mr. Tancredi. Unlike some people, I actually care about her. I would never hurt her-"

"So you keep saying that… but you have hurt her, you did hurt her!"

Michael dropped his head in shame, what could he possibly say to that? It was true.

"How long has she been clean?" he asked instead.

"How do you know she's clean?" Frank asked slowly.

Michael met Frank's eyes, allowing a little compassion to show through. This man loved his daughter, in his own way, he did. "Because I know her, she wasn't using."

"You don't know a thing about her, Scofield. You used her, charmed her to break your brother out. You didn't even care when your 'friend' shoved a knife through her throat…Don't-"

"I love her!" Michael snapped, taking a step toward him, his chain rattling in the movement. "Don't you dare tell me I didn't care when she was here. I wanted to die when Bellick told me she hadn't made it. You don't know a damn thing about me, and you know even less about your daughter!"

Frank stared stunned at Michael, "You have some nerve-"

"How can you treat her like that? Six birthdays out of twenty nine…" Michael took another step, not caring about the chains that bound him.

"She told you about that?" Frank muttered in surprise.

"Do you even know how much you hurt her?" Michael's voice was low. "Do you even know what you do to her?"

"Don't go all high and mighty on me-" Frank started his eyes beaming with guilt.

"Yes I made mistakes, yes I hurt her, yes I was the reason she was injured. But from the moment I met her, a day hasn't gone by when I didn't wish I had met her elsewhere. I had no choice, I did what I did to protect my brother. You on the other hand intention, knowingly hurt her! How you managed that for all these years I'll never understand."

Frank dropped his eyes to Michael's feet. Suddenly feeling ashamed that this man, this prisoner knew more about his daughter then he did.

"She's the most caring, the most beautiful woman I've ever met. And the fact that she works at a male prison only proves her devotion to her beliefs."

Frank elevated his eyes to Michael's face. "You really care about her don't you?"

"I won't say she wasn't part of the plan. Because she was, I needed her to look the other way so I could work in the infirmary-I needed the room…never her. I hate that what I did involved her, I hate even more that she was injured."

Frank listen to him in silence, when Michael finished Frank turned back to the window.

"It's funny, in a way….I've used and abused her more then you have."

Michael stared in surprise. Frank turned back, and for the first time Michael saw Sara's father.

"If you really love her, take care of her…she needs someone who actually cares for her." With that, Frank Tancredi started toward him, pausing as he stepped beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Take care of my daughter…and someday…tell her I'm sorry." Frank took another step and reached for the door. "You'll be released by Friday."

Michael bowed his head, "Thank you-"

The door slammed behind him, Michael allowed himself a moment of triumph.

Michael stepped into his cell, his hands clasped together.

"You ok?" Mac asked from the sink.

Michael looked up, as if surprised to see his cellmate. "Fine."

The older man studied Michael before draping a towel over his shoulder and leaning against the bed frame. "So what happened?"

Michael gave a tired grin, "I just had a chat with Governor Tancredi."

"What?" Mac leaned forward, a surprised grin on his face. "And?"

"And…"Michael dropped onto his bunk then rested his head in his hands. "I'm out in two days." He finished in a whisper.

"Well hell, man, that's great!" Mac leaned forward to slap his back.

"Yeah," Michael gave a weak grin.

"Alright, what are you thinking?" Mac settled himself beside the younger man.

"I'm just worried about Sara." Michael responded, looking back into his hands. "She's been through a lot-"

"You've been through even more. And when you get out you're both going to be happy and nothing else will matter." Mac patted Michael's back heavily. "You need to stop thinking now, fish, everything's fallen into place and pretty soon this is all going to be just a bad memory."

Exactly two days later Michael was a free man. He gathered his possessions in a brown paper bag, the guard hardly noticing that a watch was missing, and sent him through the huge steel gates that Michael had willingly passed through months earlier.

Michael scanned the parking lot, surprised to find it empty. He bit back panic and lifted his head to the sky. Lincoln would be here, but as always, he would be late. Michael closed his eyes, allowing the sun to consume his skin.

Suddenly a car door slammed and Michael turned.

Lincoln started toward him, an arm held high in greeting. Michael waved back, then looked behind his brother as Sara emerged from the other side of the car.

Michael stopped short as she moved around the car and stopped. Lincoln continued on alone, a wide smile on his lips.

"Hey bro," Lincoln greeted pulling his brother into a bear hug.

Michael closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of safely his brother's arms provided.

"You ok?" Michael asked pulling away.

Lincoln slapped his brother's shoulders heavily, "Yeah, man, I'm good. How bout you?"

"I'm good," Michael smiled at his brother then look past him at Sara. "How's she?"

Lincoln looked back then turned to Michael. "She's good, man."

"LJ? Veronica?" Michael asked.

"Both doing good. They would have shown up except the press was swamping the house and they had to be the distraction." Lincoln said a playful smile on his mouth.

"Distraction?" Michael questioned.

"Don't worry about it, Michael. Let's just get you home."

Michael sighed, "I hope-" he fell silent as his eyes behind them to Sara.

"No," Michael muttered annoyed. Michael jerked himself out of his brother's hold and started an angry march toward Sara.

"Michael?" Lincoln said, confused. He turned to see the reason for his anger…Brad

Bellick was standing close to Sara seemingly in conversation with her.

"Ohh, shit." Lincoln muttered as he watched his little brother bury his fist into the prison guard's jaw.


	9. acceptance

Thanks to my super amazing beta for getting this back to me so quick!

Reviews are my love-so hit the button and tell me what you think! Thanks for reading-Enjoy!

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Bellick wasn't prepared for Michael's fist to smash into his jaw. Both men felt the burn of skin and the cracking of teeth. The second punch stunned the guard nearly as much as the first— it was hard, merciless and painful, and forced Bellick to slam against the car.

"Stay away from her!" Michael spat as Bellick crumbled to the ground, blood seeping from his lip.

"Michael!" Sara stepped in front of Bellick and placed both hands on his chest. "Michael stop!"

Michael refocused his eyes on her and unclenched his fist. "Sara-"

"It's ok-" she whispered. "Just calm down."

"He told me you were dead," Michael hissed his eyes back on Bellick

"I know, I know," She whispered, both hands stroking his chest, trying to push him away,

"But this isn't going to help."

"Sara's right, Mike-" Lincoln said from behind him.

Bellick rose into a seating position and leaned against the back of Lincoln's car. He wiped a hand over his mouth. "You just hit a correctional officer, Scofield-"

"Oh shut up, Brad," Sara threw over her should. "I didn't see anything, did you Lincoln?"

Lincoln sent her a bright smile, "Not a damn thing, sweetheart."

"You won't get away with this, Doc-" Bellick sneered up at her. "At least everyone knows you for the crack whore you really-"

Michael stepped around Sara and kicked Bellick in the jaw with one swift move. "Shut up!" He dropped his boot back on onto the pavement.

Bellick's head crashed against the back of Lincoln's car, giving a loud bang.

"Michael!" Sara gasped, reaching for him.

"You stay the hell away from us, if I ever so much as see you in the supermarket I'll make you pay for everything you've done." Michael spat, furiously glaring down at him.

"Enough, Michael, please." Sara gripped his arm and tugged him around to her. "Please."

Michael turned, his eyes softened as he studied her. "Sara," he lifted a hand to cup her elbow, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Sara gave a relieved laugh, "God knows I've wanted to do that a few times."

Sara slid her arm through his, "Let's just get out of here-"

"Come on Mike-the doc's right." Lincoln said lightly.

Michael took Sara's arm and guided her to the other side of the car.

He pulled the backseat door open for her, released her arm and waited until she had slid across before getting in beside her. Michael could see his brother leaning down to whisper one last threat to Bellick before pulling him off his car.

"We're going to have to take the long way around," Lincoln said as he started up the car, slamming his door closed.

Michael unclasped Sara's hands and rested one of her hands on his lap. He wrapped both his hands around hers and gave a comforting squeeze.

"You ok?" he whispered as the car backed up.

Sara turned, "Of course." She smiled.

Michael studied her for a moment, allowing his eyes to analyze her features. He pulled a hand from hers and stroked her cheek.

"Thank you," He whispered gently, his finger tracing her jaw.

"For what?" She smiled back, her eyes nervously scanning his face.

"For being here…" Michael sighed, "For waiting. For getting me out of there."

Michael dropped his eyes to her collarbone. "I'm not sure what I would've done if I had stayed in there…thinking you were dead. Even after…" he choked on a dry sob.

"Michael," Sara lifted a free hand to his chin. Tears filled her eyes. "It's ok. It's over."

Michael nodded, dropped his head into her shoulder and exhaled. He took a deep breath and savored her scent. Savoring the feeling of her skin against his, he inhaled and exhaled gently as Sara wrapped herself around his body, holding him to her.

She laid her head against his, "It's over."

He released himself from Sara's hold only when they pulled into a short driveway. Michael looked out the window and saw Veronica and LJ standing in front of a two-storey house.

He reached for the door and stepped out and smiledat them. He then turned and offered his hand to Sara, helping her out of the car.

Sara placed her hand in his, allowing him to help her stand and close the door behind them.

Michael gripped her hand tightly. Sara cast him a sideways glance, surprised to find his face in a cool mask, desperately trying to hide his anxiety.

She stroked her thumb against his hand, drawing circles.

"Uncle Mike!" LJ grinned and ran towards them, throwing himself in his uncle's arms. Michael released Sara's hand and hugged his nephew.

"Hey LJ-" Michael greeted back, he smiled at Veronica over the boy's shoulder. It really was over.

That night Michael had insisted on taking the couch.

LJ had offered his bed quickly, and Sara had wanted Michael to take the guest bedroom, while Lincoln had wanted both Michael and Sara to take the room. Michael said the couch was not only big enough, but still better then anything in Fox River.

LJ needed a goodnight's sleep and he was too much of a gentleman to allow Sara to leave the bed.

That night, hours after the lights had been closed and Lincoln's loud snoring had finally subsided, Sara rolled in her bed.

She had said goodnight to Michael with a light kiss on his cheek, her lips still burned with the contact.

She wanted to pull him in her arms, and hold him...give whatever comfort she could against the nightmares she knew he would have tonight.

Sara laid an arm over her eyes and sighed.

It had been impossible to sleep knowing he was in Fox River, knowing that he was injured and nearly everyone wanted him dead. But it was even more impossible knowing he was twenty feet from her sleeping on a lumpy couch.

Sara jumped when she heard a light tap on her door. She quickly removed her arm from her eyes and sat up.

"Yes?" She muttered softly.

The door slid open, Michael stuck his head through and gave a weak smile. "Hey."

"Hey," Sara replied back. She couldn't resist a smile at seeing him.

"Mind if I come in for a moment?" He asked.

Sara shook her head, "No, of course, not. Please." She gestured to the end of the bed.

Michael stepped in, waited until the door gave a loud click before finishing the walk to her bed.

Sara pulled herself into a sitting position and did her best to meet his eyes. That was nearly impossibly considering he was wearing nothing but his brother's old sleeping pants.

"Are you alright?" Sara asked as he seated himself at the end of her bed. Her right ankle brushed across his thigh.

"Yeah," he linked her hands together on his lap and studied them. "I couldn't sleep."

She sighed. His voice was rough and exhausted, and she knew his lack of sleep wasn't from lack of trying, but from the fear of being consumed by his nightmares.

Sara reached across and stroked his back, "The first night is always the hardest. It'll get easier. I promise."

Michael looked sideways at her, "It's not that easy, Sara. I can't just forget."

She gave a sympathetic sigh and scooted closer, as she lowered her arm to wrap around his forearm, "Michael it's never going to be easy, and I doubt you'll be able to ever forget. You and your family were victims-"

"I was laying in bed tonight, debating whether I should tell you or not. If I don't, I'll live with it eating away at my conscience for the rest of my life. If I do, I'm terrified you'll hate me."

Sare looked at him in confusion. "What are you talking about? Michael, I could never hate you!" Sara said firmly, tightening her hold on his arm to emphasize her statement.

"You don't know what I've done," Michael stared at her, his eyes glazed over, remembering a place he wasn't in.

"Michael-I know that when I told you how I felt-" She dropped her eyes to his arm.

"I killed T-bag." He blurted, his eyes looking straight ahead. He felt her flinch, her arms jerk a little against his.

"What?" She whispered, staring bluntly at him. "What are you-"

He trained his eyes back to her face. "During the fight that broke out in Gen Pop…I started it so I could get to him."

"No," Sara shook her head, her eyes pleading. "No, I know you. You wouldn't do such a thing."

The corners of his mouth lifted, "But I did, Sara. Maybe I wasn't in my right mind….but

I knew what I was doing. I planned it. I started the fight, I got a shank, I went after him."

Sara stared at him for a long moment, trying to decide if what he was telling her was the truth. "He was going to come after you."

"Probably, but that wasn't the reason I did it." Michael detached himself from her hold and stood.

Sara wrapped her arms around herself and watched him move around the room. "Then why did you?"

Michael paused from his pacing and stared down at her. "I thought he had taken you from me. I had nothing left to lose."

"Oh Michael-" Sara extend her arms to him, tears welling in her eyes.

Michael stepped toward her, fell to his knees, and lifted her hands to his face. Sara allowed the tears to fall from her eyes as she stroked his cheeks.

"Seeing you like that," Michael closed his eyes. "It broke me. Worse then seeing Lincoln walk into that room…it was like I had done it to you. That it was my hand that shoved that knife through your throat. And in a way I had, I got you involved then nearly got you killed."

"Michael-" Sara cried, she lowered her head to rest against his. "It wasn't your fault-"

Michael circled his arms around her waist and pulled her off the bed. He rested her on his lap, only then noticing she wore Veronica's old pajama bottoms and his brother's large T-shirt.

Sara linked her arms around his neck and buried her face into his neck.

Michael held her tight against him, cradling her body against his.

"I know how you feel about violence. I understand if you don't want to be a part of my life-God knows I deserve it."

Sara lifted an arm to hold his face, her own still sobbing in his neck. "Michael-" she said through tears. She took a deep breath, hoping to steady herself; resulting in a little relief in her sobs. "I told you that I'd never hate you and I meant it."

She placed a damp kiss on his cheek.

Michael lifted a hand to the back of her neck. He lowered his mouth and gave her a rough kiss, his tongue sliding into hers without waiting for permission.

He could feel her wet cheeks against his and it only seemed to drive him more. Sara pressed against him, allowing him complete access to her mouth, willing him to dive deeper. After a moment, Michael pulled away.

He rested his forehead against her and sighed, his breath mingling with hers.

"I don't deserve you."

Sara laughed tiredly , "I was just thinking the same thing."

"After knowing everything I've done, that I willingly killed a man. That I hurt so many people to save one man….you still want to be with me?" It was a question he already knew the answer too, he could see the devotion, the love and passion in her eyes.

Sara stroked his cheek, "It only makes me love you more. You may have hurt those people, but Lincoln was innocent. His death would have hurt so many more. And T-bag…" Sara paused, licked her lips, taking in the last tastes of him, "He was a predator, a murderer and a rapist. He would have continued to prey on the younger cons….Just think of the future boys you saved."

Michael tightened his grip on her, holding her securely on his lap. He buried his head onto her chest. "I love you."


	10. happy endings

This is the final chapter, I'd like to thank everyone who's read and reviewed! I've gotten alot of feedback from this story so I hope you all enjoy the ending. I'm sorry for the delay of posting but my computer decided to die so not my fault. However I will be posting updates to my other stories very shortly. Thanks to everything who's read, you all rock! HUGS

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"But the tree is tilting," Sara groaned, lifting her body heavily on its side to look down at him.

"So?" He answered, giving her a sideways glance.

"So you're going to tip us over if you don't get on the other side." She pulled herself on him, resting her leg over his.

"You just want the left side." He swatted her legs away, seeing the beginning of yet another battle for the left side.

"What's your point?" She doesn't bother to hide it. Instead she moves herself onto him, holding her head up on bellowed that rested on his dark chest.

"You little thief! We already agreed I get the left side of the hammock." He smiles at her, attempting to put up a real fight but her closeness was making it impossible. The length of her body pressed against his was too much of distraction.

"When did we agree to this?" She smiles, her lips inches from his, her eyes studying his eyes then going lower to his lips.

"When you got the left side of the bed." He shot back, resisting her temptations. However. his hands continued stroking her naked thighs, running up her butt onto her back. He felt her shiver and gave a coy smile.

"Never heard of 'ladies first' I guess." She attempted a hard glare.

"Oh I have, I just don't see one." He smirked, pressing a hand to her neck to lower to his mouth.

"OUCH!" Michael exclaimed, as Sara's hand made contact with his lips.

Michael watched as she moved her stingy hand back under her chin.

"You deserved that." She added, lowering her head under his chin.

"A lady wears clothing, and sorry hon, but I haven't seen you in anything more then a bikini since we got here." He teased again, holding her waist tightly.

Laughing, she then turned her head back up at him. "I didn't realize you were so offended by that, I think I'll go dig out that turtleneck I brought-" She made a weak attempt to get off him. His arms tightened around her waist. They were joking, just playing around, but the idea that she would move off him, break the full body contact made him panic ever so slightly.

"Fine, get over here." He started to scoot away from the left side., Still holding her waist, he lowered her onto the hammock.

"I knew you'd see it my way." She smiled, back at him. She leaned forward and placed a placating kiss on his nose.

"I just didn't want to ruin the view!" He tossed back, jerking her hips back against his, then wrapping an arm around her midriff-.

"You still owe me dinner." Sara said moments later, when they had repositioned themselves together tightly. His head rested on her shoulder, he knew his week old whiskers were tickling her skin, but he also knew she found it 'devilishly handsome' so he didn't move away.

"I bought you dinner last night." He muttered into her ear.

"Oh I see-so that whole time in the infirmary when I was thinking riverside restaurant and filet mignons you were thinking burrito stand with brother, brother's girlfriend and nephew. I should have known!" She teased, turning her head slightly.

"Well I never did specify." Michael answered, dropping a kiss on the tender skin under her ear.

"You jerk!" She raged gently, opening her mouth to continue.

"Alright, alright-where do you want to go? I suppose I can borrow money from my wealthy brother now-" Michael gripped her hips and turned her in the hammock until they were facing each other. "I saw a cute little-"

"I want you to cook." She placed a hand on his chest, her eyes sparkling.

"Umm...NO." Michael gave a little shake of his head.

"Why not? You're amazing with everything else in life I can only imagine your cooking!" Sara said excitedly, as she began tracing his tattoo with one finger. It was Michael's turn to shiver.

"Then leave it to your imagination. But about me being amazing with everything else-" He shook his head firmly, wishing he could sound as firm as he'd like. But there she was again, using those damn wiles.

"No! Not until you make me dinner. Are you telling me you can't cook?" Sara asked, running her fingertip lightly over his nipple. When she heard a hiss from him, she smiled.

"I've been known to turn noodle into kitty vomit." He said pressing her body against his. No matter how close, he never seemed to be able to get her close enough.

"I don't believe it," She replied seriously…because she really didn't.

"Trust me-I can't even fix a burrito." Michael reassured, suddenly more interested in her lips than whatever conversation they were having. Hell he'd resisted her throughout the morning, considering the fact that she was wearing a tiny black bikini, he'd thought he'd done quiet well. But resistance wasn't all that great, so he leaned forward and kissed her.

He angled his body, attempting to deepen the kiss, when she suddenly broke it off.

"Well then come on burrito boy – go beg money from your brother. You owe me a date." She pushed him away with a coy smile. Damn her wiles, Michael thinks for the second time, knowing it to be far from the last time. She stepped off the hammock then reached for a towel he had placed on the ground. Michael watched as she wrapped herself in it then turned back to him.

"Come on, I'm starving." She extended her arms to him, encouraging him to stand.

Michael took her hands but didn't sit up. "Sara, I love you, you know that right?"

She gave him a confused glance then smiled, "Of course."

"Good," he pulled her back down onto the hammock, grinning even more when he heard her loud yelp of surprise. He buried his lips into hers, not waiting for permission to consume her mouth

He pulled her back on him, running his hands down her back and back up, stopping only when he reached the clasp of her top. He met her eyes, as she pulled their mouths apart.

She sucked in a loud breath then smiled at him. "You're still buying me dinner."

"Later-" He nodded, her clasp coming easily undone.

"Much later." She lowered her mouth back to his.


End file.
